Natalie Knows All
by psychoticbookgirl
Summary: Natalie's Diary: a book full of observations and emotions straight from the mind of one of the most gifted minds of this century. For 39 Diaries contest. It's bad and short. I wrote it in approximately 10 minutes, so that's probably why it stinks. Enjoy!
1. March 29 & March 30

March 29, 2010

Dear Diary,

My life is terribly terrible. Terribly, terribly, terribly terrible.

My stupid brother is being a prat.

My stupid mother is being a rat.

My stupid father has got a date.

My stupid cousins are winning the race.

I HATE LIFE!!!

Much love,

NK

---

March 30, 2010

Dear Diary,

Sorry for that last entry. I've just got so much on my mind.

It's just that... my parents are getting divorced, and I don't know how to handle _ANYTHING_.

I mean... I'm beautiful, fabulous, rich... everything anyone could ever want to be.

Right?

I feel like my life is an imploding building, and I'm stuck inside. (That doesn't make much sense, does it? Well, at least my grammar teacher would give me points for making a simile or metaphor or whatever it is.)

The prospect of divorce is terrible... I mean, I guess I understand, sort of. My parents have never exactly been "loving old Mum and Pop", but they've always been a bit of a unit of some sort. I guess that it is hard to have two ruthless people both be leaders... I mean, one of them was bound to overpower the other. Still, I always imagined them to love one another...

Or maybe I'm mistaken. My mother's always been a bit more cruel and ruthless than Father, but even that hasn't detracted from his wickedness. I can't believe that Daddy would go out with somone other than her, though, even if they _are_ in the process of divorce.

Honestly, Father dearest, can you wait a month? We'll all feel better after the whole thing is over.

And on to the subject of my brother. UGH. He is so caught up on doing _whatever_ they _want. _Maybe he thinks that it'll soften the blow or something. Personally, I think it is stupendously obnoxious. He's purposely making an effort to do the sort of nasty things that Mother would do, or go hunting with Father, and he is avoiding the subject of the 39 Clues like the plague, probably due to his fancy of that girl, Amelia. (It _is _Amelia, right?)

Ew. She and her brother are probably the biggest idiots known to man. The filthy peasants are wearing the same clothing every time I see them; it's atrocious. They probably shower once a week. I suppose I should give them credit for being able to survive such horrendous conditions, but they are just so... disgusting that I don't even think I'll give them that.

The girl is hideous, she wears the ugliest clothes, she is THE definition of "dork." I haven't the slightest idea why my brother likes her so much.

The boy is even worse. He is forever rattling on about the most horrific subjects: video games and NINJAS. He is a disgrace to the Cahill name.

Well, I've done nothing but complain, so I suppose I will bore you no longer.

--NK

---

Author's Note:

Well.

I feel that this was OOC, do you think so? Or no?

Tell me how you feel. For LW77 and Muse's 39 Diaries contest.


	2. March 31

March 31

Dear Diary,

I don't even know why I bother to write in this book. It just makes me more angry.

Who invented the idea of putting your emotions on paper? It just puts anger or sorrow in more than one place. I'm fine with it being solely in my brain, thank you. But I suppose that I should continue writing in this silly book in case people want a record of my childhood in the future, like when I'm old or dead and can't tell them myself.

Ha. Like I'll ever be old. And even if I get old, I DEFINITELY will never be wrinkly.

Well... at least... I hope not.

Being wrinkly would be so distasteful! And what do you do with all that soft, flabby skin? Do you stretch it out and peel it off? I am lucky I have the money for plastic surgery. Not that I'd ever_ get _surgery, I find it tacky, but it's nice to have options.

Anyway. On the subject of my parents' divorce, I believe I may try to find some way to sabatoge it. You see that a lot in movies, right? So why not do it in real life!

This is not going to go well.

But that isn't stopping me.

I suppose I'll see you tomorrow.

--NK

Author's Note: Short, I know. I wrote this one in probably seven minutes. Oh yeah. This story's going to be some sort of record, I feel it in my bones. More tomorrow, probably.

--

"Ni! Ni!"

-The Knights Who Say "Ni". MONTY PYTHON!!!


	3. April 1

April 1, 2010

Dear Diary,

Oh joy. It's April Fool's Day. The one day of the year where people can do childish, idiotic things to each other and get away with it.

Like Daniel Cahill, for example. Today we saw each other in a store in town, pretty much the only time we've ever met that we weren't trying to kill each other, and he played a jolly good April Fool's Day trick! What fun!

Note my sarcasm.

Well, there we were in the little store, and he came up to me, and he said, "Natalie, you do realize that there is a large spider crawling up your side, right?"

So I did what anyone would do on reflex. I screamed and yelled for someone to get it off immediately. And everyone stared at me, save for one old woman who probably wouldn't hear if a nuclear bomb went off in the front garden. She'd just say, with half her face ripped off and a new case of leukemia, "What was that, sonny?" and go back to crocheting or whatever old ladies do.

Anyway, all the people in the restaurant were looking at me like I was a freak, and this lady came up to me and asked if I was feeling alright and if I needed an escort to the hospital.

I politely declined as Daniel shouted, "APRIL FOOLS!" and went off to drink some milk.

Stupid Dan and his imaginary spiders.

--NK

-

Later, April 1, 2010

Oh yes, I'm not done yet.

I really want my brother to get back from New York, where he is staying at a Lucian base and doing something so confidential that I can't write it down on paper. (Actually, so confidential that I can't even know. So I must assume I can't write it down. He's probably spying on Amelia or something.)

The reason I want him to get back is so that I can yell at him for breaking into my bedroom before he left and ransacking everything. It took ages for the maids to clean it up, and I had to supervise the WHOLE thing to make sure that no one put my purses in my shoe closet or some silly gaffe like that.

--NK

-

Even later, April 1, 2010

OH MY GOD! (Praised be the name of Lord Jesus Christ)

IAN WASN'T THE ONE WHO BROKE INTO MY ROOM!

IT WAS AN ACTUAL BURGLAR!

WE HAD TO FIRE THE GUARDS BECAUSE THEY LET THE BURGLAR GET INTO THE HOUSE! (I personally think we should fire the security system; but apparently we can't do that because it's "not a person.")

I am so scared, considering the fact that I have broken in places before.

What if they took my new Prada? I haven't even used it yet! I have to take inventory...

...

Phew, it's still there. Nothin was taken. I bet it was some Madrigal or something.

I'm never going to break in to another house, clue or no clue. It's terrifying to the victim; I've never been this scared before.

Well, maybe, but only because my mother would dangle me over a pit of man-eating pigs if I didn't. Plus it's fun to make grown men cry.

Well, I'm going to go work on my parents-divorce plan now.

Good bye.

--NK

-

AN: Do you think that last entry bit was OOC?

More Monty Python: "Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"

Thanks for reading, now review!


	4. April 2

April 2, 2010

Dear Diary,

Today is Good Friday. How is it "Good"? Jesus DIED! That doesn't seem very _good_ to me, does it? Of course, it could be referring to the fact that Jesus died so that we can go to heaven, which_ is _rather _good_, wouldn't you say?

I have to make a long entry, seeing as we aren't supposed to talk from 12:00 to 3:00.

Anyway, Ian isn't back from the Lucian base yet, so I am rather bored. Not that he makes anything entertaining, but it is sometimes amusing to watch him moon over that Amelia girl. She seemed rather pathetically weak to me, but I suppose it is all a matter of taste. And my brother happens to be quite tasteless, so I guess it is fitting.

In two days it will be Easter, so I will be showered with toys and gifts that the Easter Bunny "laid" around the mansion. Ugh. I don't see why they bother, I don't believe in such nonsense and we never find all of the Easter eggs, they are spread all over the house (Which happens to be quite large). Yesterday I found one in one of my old slippers. Unfortunately, the money inside of it was wrinkly, so I gave it to the gardener. He seemed pretty happy, maybe he collects bills or something. I don't know why else he'd be so thrilled; it was only a hundred pounds.

Now I am wondering why Daniel Cahill was in town. It seems rather odd, for several reasons:

1. He and his sister are from AMERICA, and this is LONDON.

2. They should be working at the clue hunt. The only reason I'm not is because I sprained my knee on Monday and can't move around as I should for a few weeks.

OH! I have just been enlightened-- maybe they are searching for a clue here, in Britain!

Or-- perhaps Daniel sneaked into my bedroom, and HE was the burglar!!

Natalie, your brilliance is overwhelming.

Why, thank you, Natalie, and your hair looks stunning today.

Actually, those two theories were given to me by a maid. But I knew from the beginning that it was a Madrigal who broke in, so it is only fair that I claim these two also.

And back on the subject of my sabatoging the divorce, I am thinking of a plan. But I don't know how well it will go, because I've only gotten the first part written yet:

1. Wait for Ian to return.

If you have any ideas (Wait, you're a diary! You can't speak!) please inform me of them. I swear I'll only take half the credit.

Ta ta for now,

--NK

-

A/N:

I didn't think it was that OOC today. Written in 8 minutes.

"What's he going to do, nibble your bum?"


	5. April 3

April 3, 2010

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow's Easter. I kind of went over that yesterday, though, so I won't bore you with another rant. (Not that anyone could possibly ever be bored by _me_. You'd have to be flipping _mad_.)

Anyway, on to the subject of my parents' divorce.

Well, Ian came back home today, so stage one is complete. This success was completely owed to the fabulousness of me, of course. (I don't know how, but it has to be. "Duh", as those American twits would say.)

So, when he came home, I informed him of my plan. This was our conversation:

N: I am going to try and sabatoge our parents divorce.

I: Good luck.

N: I need your help.

I: Sorry, but I want to live to see Easter.

N: It's either do this or face the wrath of my dart gun.

I: Tch. I have just as many weapons as you. Your dart gun is no match to my flamethrower.

N: Oh, please. Your flamethrower couldn't burn a crocus flower. My dart gun can poison--

I: Fine. Whatever. Just get off my case and go away.

N: Well, you need to help with the plan.

I: Whoever said that? _You_ make the plan, I'll help do whatever the plan says.

N: Fine.

I: Good. Now, be quiet and leave. I have to call Am-- erm, Amica Insurance. Yeah.

N: Whatever.

Tch. My brother doesn't need insurance.

So here is my plan so far:

1. Wait for Ian to come home. (Completed)

2. Ask Ian to help. (Completed)

3. Threaten someone. (Completed, but may be repeated later if necessary.)

4. Go to several random stores, call random people, and find websites on the internet that sell random and otherwise useless things.

5. Using these objects, create a brilliant trap/plan that will somehow make Mum and Dad love each other again and not want to get divorced.

6. Destroy Daniel Cahill and break into HIS bedroom.

Oh, Natalie, you are so smart and stupendous. In fact, I think I will capitalize even the pronouns pertaining to Your name since You are so fabulous and amazing.

Well, I should really go now. I have better things to do than write in this silly book.

Take care, (Oh wait-- you're a diary! You just sit in my drawer!)

--NK


	6. April 4: Easter

April 4, 2010

Dear Diary,

Today is Easter. The jolly good old Easter Bunny came, and the house magically became filled with pastel-colored eggs overnight. Amazing.

I couldn't do much about Operation Destroy Divorce today, (Or Operation Dislodge Divorce-- I like this one because "dislodge" sounds more sophisticated. Let's just call it ODD or Operation Double D. ODD is useful for when I'm in the presence of my parents so that they will just think I'm talking about the Cahill children or something.) due to the whole Easter-spend-time-with-family thing. I'll definitely buy some things tomorrow.

Actually, maybe this day was useful... so many leftover plastic Easter eggs... they surely can't use them all... hmm... I can use them.

So, Stage 4 (I believe that is the one) is on its way to completion. I already know one of the random items: Easter eggs.

Natalie, You continue to amaze the world with Your brilliance and greatness.

Goodbye for today,

--NK

---

A/N

It wasn't very interesting today, sorry. Kind of a filler; I couldn't spend a lot of time on it because of the whole Easter factor. (Hey, deja vu!)

"Give me that fillet of fish."


	7. April 9

April 9, 2010

Dear Diary,

I haven't written in a few days because I've been so busy collecting items for my plan. I hope that Mum doesn't find that hare that has gotten loose from my room...

Anyway, here is a list of what I've gotten so far:

1. Six rabbits. (Except now there are only five...)

2. 1500 Easter eggs.

3. Six tapes of _Psyche_ reruns.

4. Sixty bananas.

5. A guitar.

6. Nine hundred decorative plates.

7. Duct tape.

8. 6,000 candles.

9. Two hundred and eighty-seven weebles.

10. Ninety eco-friendly light bulbs.

I am going out right now to purchase a few antelopes, so I have to leave on the desk now. Have a nice rest. (Ye gads, I'm talking to a _diary_ as if it were a human-- again! Actual_ people _don't deserve to hear my conversations... I need some air..)

Er... bye...

--NK

---

A/N: Sorry I have kind of skipped on updating this, as of late. Apparently my teachers' love of handing out homework has increased exponentially in the past five days...

Oodles of hugs! And bacon a-plenty!

&PBG&


	8. April 15 & April 16

April 15, 2010

Dear Diary,

Well, I bought some more things! Too many to list, actually... This whole thing is coming along very well. Once again, Natalie's brilliance gleams brightly on the crystal hanging in the window of life. (Why do I keep using figurative language that makes no sense? Life is not a window! Perhaps I could pay someone to _make_ it a window, but as of right now, I see no "Window of life".)

My knee is getting better, so I might not be able to stay home for much longer. I should fall down the stairs or something so I have more time to work on my plan.

_"That is a pretty good idea, Your Fabulousness. You should go do that right now."_

_"Why, thank you, Natalie the Great. I believe I will."_

Well, I am going to go take my brilliant advice and fall off of a tall ledge.

Ta-ta!

--NK

April 16, 2010

Dear Diary,

Well. I "fell" down our marble staircase yesterday... and now I am sitting on a hospital bed. Hospitals are SO distasteful. Honestly, the "scrubs" are just glorified peasant bedsheets. And don't get me started on the decor... plus, the televisions only have SIXTY CHANNELS!! That right there is a disgrace to technology.

Anyway, I suppose I took it a tad too far yesterday, because I ended up not only twisting my leg, but hitting my head on the stairs as well. I blacked out for fifteen seconds. (Approximately. I was unconscious, I couldn't exactly count. Of course, if I _wanted_ to I could have, but I didn't, so...)

At least this will extend my break from the clue hunt for at least a week! Natalie, You really are a genius.

I must go shower. (At least they appreciate sanitary health here. Something that clearly does NOT register with a certain Daniel Cahill.)

--NK

**Well, now I think I'll work on a *cough* **_**real**_** story. If you haven't noticed, this is crap. **

**Embrace the crap.**

**Yeah.**


	9. April 19

April 19, 2010

Dear Diary,

It is the nineteenth, isn't it? I haven't really been keeping track. I slept through yesterday entirely. My parents apparently thought I was dead. Ian relayed their conversation to me:

(F for Father, M for Mum, I for Ian, N for Natalie)

M: Dear God! The girl is dead!

F: No she's not. She's only asleep.

M: Don't be silly. She is dead.

F: But that queer thing on the moniter is still beeping and jiggling. What does that mean?

M: I don't know! I didn't go to medical school!

F: Fine. What color do you think she would want her burial shroud to be?

M: Pink. Definitely pink.

F: *Sighs* Pink is too happy, and too girly. We raised an assasin, not a cupcake!

M: _Pink _is a _lovely_ color. And why do you think she would care what color her burial shroud was? She is dead! She will never see it!

F: She'll see it in heaven. *Nods solemnly*

M: *Snorts* What makes you think she'll go to heaven? You said it yourself; the girl is an assasin!

F: *Shock* That's an awful thing to say, dearest! Our little princess is going to have a throne in heaven!

M: Oh, so NOW she is a cupcake! I--

N: *Yawns* What about cupcakes? What time is it? I'm tired... *Yawns, falls back to sleep*

I: I don't think she is dead.

M: I never really thought she was dead. It was entirely your father's notion.

I: Er... yes, mum.

M: DON'T CALL ME MUM!

THE END

I suppose I understand now why my parents are getting divorced... they are forever arguing.

But that doesn't mean that I want them divorced.

I am going to go sleep now. My friend Charlotte is going to visit me tomorrow, so I must get my beauty rest.

Until then,

--NK

---

A/N:

Fondue is only good in small portions.

Be warned.


	10. May 14

May 14, 2010

Dear Diary,

You must feel rather neglected right now, no? I sort of forgot about you for several weeks. Half of that time I was sleeping, so I suppose that I couldn't have written much anyway, but still you must be feeling rather put-out.

Where did I leave off? Was that when Charlotte visited? That was a rather unevenful get-together. I don't know why I put up with her; she is _such _an airhead. One of her parents is American, so they went to live in the U.S. for a time, and apparently they rubbed off on her. I believe our conversation went around these lines:

N: Hello, Charlotte.

C: Hi, Natalie! I haven't seen you in soo long. Wow, that bruise on your head is big, and swelly.... Can I touch it?

N: No!

C: Oh. It looked rather squishy.

N: Er... all right...

C: So I can touch it?

N: NO! Don't touch my bruise!

C: Okay.

Then she started talking about Benjamin from math class or something.

I haven't gotten much further on the divorce bit... they dropped it for a while on account of my injury. And mostly I've been sleeping. So I'll try and figure it out soon.

I am very jealous of Ian. He is running all over the earth, (Probably just to find Amelia; I heard she is in hiding) and I am cooped up in this confounded hospital. He isn't talking to me either. He only said ONE thing to me yesterday:

I: Shut it.

Isn't that pathetic? I am seriously ill!

Well, I'm off to drink some herbal tea.

---NK


End file.
